Yesterday I did something I haven’t in awhile. I set out on my bike without a destination in mind. I hopped on, clipped in and spun off.
It was fucking spectacular.
As ‘Racing Folk’ we sometimes get stuck in routines. The Tuesday Crit, The Wednesday Ride, The Saturday Base, The Sunday Coffee. It’s easy, it’s predictable. Adherence to the Schedule does a lot for a burgeoning cyclist. It will make you faster. It will introduce you to the type of people you’ll want to spend time with. It fits into a typical 9 to 5 gig pretty easily. And being fast is good, right?
Right. But there’s more to life than being fast, there’s enjoyment to be had. If suffering is glory in our world, then what is happiness?
Happiness is allowing yourself to turn away from the headwind. Happiness is stopping for a meal. Not a bite, not a coffee, but an honest-to-God meal. Taking the time to really look at what you’re passing. Taking the time to think. To breathe.
So enjoy the structure. After my leisurely stroll, I took the time to partake in The Wednesday Ride. I put myself in the hurt locker. My lungs attempted to leave their constricted and burning chest, but to no avail. The suffering, she’s always there.
But not every breath taken on a bicycle should be a violent one.